The news today is abuzz with Lance Armstrong, once again, because he has stepped down as Chairman of his Livestrong Foundation and been fired by Nike. ESPN is tops for me, as far as awesome, intelligent, and intriguing sports news is concerned, and this is one of their reports on our man in the hot seat.
I love this Nike commercial, and still do, the irony of it notwithstanding. "What am I on?" he repeats the often-asked question. "I'm on my bike, busting my ass, six hours a day. What are you on?"
His claim to infamy had been that he was the most drug-tested athlete and never failed a test. Now there are reasons to wonder if there was illicit collusion among the testers about any positive results. I expect that even more will come to light in the next several months.
Yeah, he was 'on' something
In conversations with cycling friends, in the midst of his championship run on the Tour de France, I said, "Yeah, I think he's on something. But he's so smart, so disciplined, and so well-advised by the best of minds in the sport, that he's ahead of the game."
So, as the veritable fortress of doping that he and his mates constructed came undone, brick by brick, I was saddened but not shocked. I already knew. There is still more to undo, of course, but his legacy is a demolition site now.
Sports is a quandary
We marvel at what athletes do. Our jaw drops in awe, our head shakes in disbelief, and our voice is lost in the thick air of whoops, high-fives, and beer.
Truth be told, 99.9% of us cannot do what they can do. But perhaps in a fit of vicarious play, when we watch them, we can. Even if the inspiration lifts our athletic skills just a fraction closer to theirs, we are grateful. This is why I am hooked on sports.
But for those 0.1% athletes, their world is pure, unadulterated reality. Past that marveling, I think it's inhuman to subject themselves to such strain and pain. No body or mind should be subjected to it. The Tour de France, for example, is 2100 miles of hell, over a 3-week period. Yes, hundreds of athletes endure this grueling race, year after year, and they recover and they're just fine.
Not to condone the use of illicit performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs), I simply encourage us to try to understand why, for goodness sake, athletes may, and do, in fact resort to them. As a weekend cyclist, I have a feel for that strain and pain. I resort to protein powder, spaghetti carbo-load, and hydration fluids, when I train and cycle, but consume absolutely no drugs. I am wasted after a fast-and-furious 50-mile 'recreational' ride with the guys, under the 110-degree Dubai sun. I know how my body and mind feel, and all I can do afterward is what Lance did in the Nike commercial: sleep.
Then, in preparation for the next ride, I review the last ride in my mind and tweak my training regimen accordingly. I also wonder what else I can consume to raise my performance.
Moreover, aside from the personal compulsion to excel, athletes also face peer and commercial pressures to perform at such a high level, as to be, once again, downright inhuman. There's no question about the fact that they made a choice to subject themselves to such pressure. But once in the sea of these choices, each of them can go only so far to keep their heads above water and endure it. The cliche is true: They're only human, after all.
Yeah, we can get inspired by no-limits, nothing-is-impossible commercials on YouTube and posts on Facebook. But as a matter of brutal fact, all of us have far many more limits than capabilities. Far more things we cannot do than things we can. So those who dope are simply trying, in this complex, strenuous arena of sports, to withstand, survive, and succeed.
Lance is a dilemma
Lance remains a standout athlete to me. They can strip him of his Tour de France mantles, they can grab million-dollar sponsorships off his hands, and they can vilify him in judgmental media circles. He is still a remarkable guy to me.
Why and how?
We do not know exactly how many dopers there were in the field of riders, in his seven-year championship run, but we can safely assume there were many indeed. So, as far as doping is concerned, it was probably a level playing field.
The fact, then, that Lance rose head-and-shoulders above all of them cannot be accounted for by PEDs. No, I'd say it was his brilliant strategic skills on the bike. His unmatched conditioning, discipline, and athleticism. The masterful direction of Johan Bruyneel. The training stewardship of Chris Carmichael. No doubt, all of these were competitive differentiators. I bet he could've won those championships without PEDs. The dude was that great on the bike!
It may be said that every dog has its day. I mean, the critics who must now feel justified in their hard-fought doping accusations, especially those in the French media, who apparently disliked Lance with a passion. Let him drown completely in his own sea of lies and denials, I hear them shout, wholly discredited and dismissed.
But wait a minute, I say. Can we not separate the good from the bad, and still admire the guy for surviving cancer, raising half-a-billion dollars to eradicate it, and excelling in one of the most grueling sports around?
I can, and encourage all of us to do the same.
The dilemma in all honesty, however, is that some of us cannot - and will not, even if we can - separate the good from the bad. He's all bad, good riddance, amen, and thank you, ma'am!
Think: Joe Paterno. The abuse that several victims had to endure requires recompense and punishment, of course, as a response to those perpetrators and accomplices, Joe included. But if this abuse weren't tragic enough, the NCAA had to go nuclear with its own set of punishments on Penn State University and its football program. Apparently, the hundreds of (innocent) athletes, coaches, students, faculty and administrators were all bad, too, for being at PSU. No one can convince me that that isn't a travesty in itself!
That said, Joe's phenomenal legacy on the football field is obviously now a tarnished set of trophies on the mantlepiece. But let them take away his statue and categorically vilify the dead man, those trophies still stand strong and proud, in my eyes. Joe remains among the heralded few in college sports, who sustained decades of success. Perhaps he is more the real idol now, for his very flaws and mistakes, amidst his longtime accomplishments.
Same with Lance. Again, I am saddened by his doping but I still admire, and am inspired by, all the good he did, on and off the bike.
Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
Ron Villejo, PhD
I love this Nike commercial, and still do, the irony of it notwithstanding. "What am I on?" he repeats the often-asked question. "I'm on my bike, busting my ass, six hours a day. What are you on?"
His claim to infamy had been that he was the most drug-tested athlete and never failed a test. Now there are reasons to wonder if there was illicit collusion among the testers about any positive results. I expect that even more will come to light in the next several months.
Yeah, he was 'on' something
In conversations with cycling friends, in the midst of his championship run on the Tour de France, I said, "Yeah, I think he's on something. But he's so smart, so disciplined, and so well-advised by the best of minds in the sport, that he's ahead of the game."
So, as the veritable fortress of doping that he and his mates constructed came undone, brick by brick, I was saddened but not shocked. I already knew. There is still more to undo, of course, but his legacy is a demolition site now.
Sports is a quandary
We marvel at what athletes do. Our jaw drops in awe, our head shakes in disbelief, and our voice is lost in the thick air of whoops, high-fives, and beer.
Truth be told, 99.9% of us cannot do what they can do. But perhaps in a fit of vicarious play, when we watch them, we can. Even if the inspiration lifts our athletic skills just a fraction closer to theirs, we are grateful. This is why I am hooked on sports.
But for those 0.1% athletes, their world is pure, unadulterated reality. Past that marveling, I think it's inhuman to subject themselves to such strain and pain. No body or mind should be subjected to it. The Tour de France, for example, is 2100 miles of hell, over a 3-week period. Yes, hundreds of athletes endure this grueling race, year after year, and they recover and they're just fine.
Not to condone the use of illicit performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs), I simply encourage us to try to understand why, for goodness sake, athletes may, and do, in fact resort to them. As a weekend cyclist, I have a feel for that strain and pain. I resort to protein powder, spaghetti carbo-load, and hydration fluids, when I train and cycle, but consume absolutely no drugs. I am wasted after a fast-and-furious 50-mile 'recreational' ride with the guys, under the 110-degree Dubai sun. I know how my body and mind feel, and all I can do afterward is what Lance did in the Nike commercial: sleep.
Then, in preparation for the next ride, I review the last ride in my mind and tweak my training regimen accordingly. I also wonder what else I can consume to raise my performance.
Moreover, aside from the personal compulsion to excel, athletes also face peer and commercial pressures to perform at such a high level, as to be, once again, downright inhuman. There's no question about the fact that they made a choice to subject themselves to such pressure. But once in the sea of these choices, each of them can go only so far to keep their heads above water and endure it. The cliche is true: They're only human, after all.
Yeah, we can get inspired by no-limits, nothing-is-impossible commercials on YouTube and posts on Facebook. But as a matter of brutal fact, all of us have far many more limits than capabilities. Far more things we cannot do than things we can. So those who dope are simply trying, in this complex, strenuous arena of sports, to withstand, survive, and succeed.
Lance is a dilemma
Lance remains a standout athlete to me. They can strip him of his Tour de France mantles, they can grab million-dollar sponsorships off his hands, and they can vilify him in judgmental media circles. He is still a remarkable guy to me.
Why and how?
We do not know exactly how many dopers there were in the field of riders, in his seven-year championship run, but we can safely assume there were many indeed. So, as far as doping is concerned, it was probably a level playing field.
The fact, then, that Lance rose head-and-shoulders above all of them cannot be accounted for by PEDs. No, I'd say it was his brilliant strategic skills on the bike. His unmatched conditioning, discipline, and athleticism. The masterful direction of Johan Bruyneel. The training stewardship of Chris Carmichael. No doubt, all of these were competitive differentiators. I bet he could've won those championships without PEDs. The dude was that great on the bike!
It may be said that every dog has its day. I mean, the critics who must now feel justified in their hard-fought doping accusations, especially those in the French media, who apparently disliked Lance with a passion. Let him drown completely in his own sea of lies and denials, I hear them shout, wholly discredited and dismissed.
But wait a minute, I say. Can we not separate the good from the bad, and still admire the guy for surviving cancer, raising half-a-billion dollars to eradicate it, and excelling in one of the most grueling sports around?
I can, and encourage all of us to do the same.
The dilemma in all honesty, however, is that some of us cannot - and will not, even if we can - separate the good from the bad. He's all bad, good riddance, amen, and thank you, ma'am!
Think: Joe Paterno. The abuse that several victims had to endure requires recompense and punishment, of course, as a response to those perpetrators and accomplices, Joe included. But if this abuse weren't tragic enough, the NCAA had to go nuclear with its own set of punishments on Penn State University and its football program. Apparently, the hundreds of (innocent) athletes, coaches, students, faculty and administrators were all bad, too, for being at PSU. No one can convince me that that isn't a travesty in itself!
That said, Joe's phenomenal legacy on the football field is obviously now a tarnished set of trophies on the mantlepiece. But let them take away his statue and categorically vilify the dead man, those trophies still stand strong and proud, in my eyes. Joe remains among the heralded few in college sports, who sustained decades of success. Perhaps he is more the real idol now, for his very flaws and mistakes, amidst his longtime accomplishments.
Same with Lance. Again, I am saddened by his doping but I still admire, and am inspired by, all the good he did, on and off the bike.
Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
Ron Villejo, PhD
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